


Stracciatella

by Ostodvandi



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anxiety, Childhood Friends, F/M, Fluff, Handholding, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Modern Era, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:48:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22915012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ostodvandi/pseuds/Ostodvandi
Summary: Yuri visits after a while, and Bernadetta suggests they go together for some ice cream.
Relationships: Yuris Leclair | Yuri Leclerc/Bernadetta von Varley
Comments: 12
Kudos: 138





	Stracciatella

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time writing them and it will probably not be the last because I love these funky kids.

'So, what flavor do you want?'

Bernadetta hates making decisions. Actually, she despises anything she has to do in front of other people, because there is always something they could judge. If she chooses chocolate or vanilla flavor, he might think she's basic. Typical. All around dumb. Which she is, but the point is to at least try to not give off that impression. But if she chose a weirder flavor like stracciatella (which, to be honest, she loves) he might think she's a weirdo. Which she also is.

Seteth's words sound in her head, something about rationalizing her fears and how the people she loves wouldn't be judgemental about something as silly as some ice cream flavor. But this is Yuri they’re talking about - she hasn’t seen him in five years, and now Yuri is even prettier than he was before, and his voice is deeper, and he still looks tall despite Bernadetta’s recent growth spurt. And he has insisted on inviting her to this, when it was just the first thing that came to her mind when Yuri asked what she wanted to do this evening.

So, basically, she doesn’t want to ridicule herself in front of her handsome and smart childhood friend.

'Bernie? Earth to Bernie?' Yuri waves a hand in front of her and then snaps his fingers together, finally startling Bernadetta out of her spiral of thoughts. 'Ah, finally.'

'I- I just-' She looks down, away from Yuri’s smile, and shakes her head. 'I-I'll just take whatever you want, really…'

Yuri hums, raising his eyebrows, and Bernadetta looks around, anywhere but him. 'Two cones of stracciatella, please!'

Bernadetta blinks, finally looking at the girl behind the counter preparing their ice creams. Yuri leaves a bunch of coins on the counter and holds both cones with a triumphant smile that Bernadetta doesn't quite understand. 

'There. Which one do you want?'

'Ah–’ She looks at both cones, and they look sort of similar, although one of them has a little more content. ‘I'll just… I'll take the one you don't want.'

Yuri ponders both ice creams like Bernadetta has done prior to him, and offers her the one with the biggest ball. 'Here. I'll take the other one.'

‘Thank you,’ she whispers, holding the cone with both hands like she can’t believe it’s there. As they walk out back into the street, she asks. ‘I didn’t know you liked stracciatella flavored ice cream…’

‘I’m indifferent to it,’ he says and shrugs. ‘But I remember it being your favorite, so…’

He’s smiling as he says it, and he gives his own ball of ice cream a lick, ignoring the growing embarrassment of his companion. Bernadetta’s face is red. ‘You didn’t have to pick it for me!’

‘You don’t like it anymore?’ he guesses, eyes widening in surprise. ‘You looked pretty excited when I handed it to you.’

She shakes her head, and tastes her own ice cream to gain some time to think. How to explain it to him without looking stupid? “Oh I just wasn’t able to tell you I wanted this or that flavor of ice cream because you’d think I’m a weirdo”. Who even thinks about that, besides her?

‘I… I do. I like it a lot.’ She sighs, and her shoulders fall. ‘It’s just… you’ve come to visit, after so long, and yet we’re eating my favorite ice cream, instead of yours, because I can’t even remember what your favorite flavor or anything is, and, I don’t know…’

A hand suddenly rests on her head, patting it softly, and she looks up at Yuri’s serious face. He’s slightly bent down, looking right into her eyes with his own and- and he’s gotten really handsome over the years, and Bernadetta should be less of a horrible friend and stop thinking about Yuri’s eyeshadow framing his eyes this very instant. 

‘It’s alright.’ His voice sounds calm, but severe all the same. ‘I’ve come here to see you, whatever we do isn’t what’s important. You want to eat stracciatella ice cream? Sure, let’s do that. It’s been years, Bernadetta, I’m not going to hate you for not remembering I’m lactose intolerant.’

She blinks.

‘WHAT?’

Yuri laughs - laughs! and very charmingly so! but that is not the point! - and keeps licking the ice cream like nothing happened, walking away from her. 

‘Wait! Stop eating it!’

He cackles again, pulling a napkin out of his pocket to keep his hands clean of melted ice cream. ‘Bernie, I’m just messing with you!’

Oh, thank God.

‘Or maybe not?’

_Oh no_. ‘Yuri!’

He keeps laughing, an open and genuine sound that comes from the depths of his lungs, and he backs away from Bernadetta. ‘Catch me first if you want to stop me!’

* * *

He eats the last of his cone, and leans on the back of the bench they sat down on some minutes ago. Bernadetta is still fighting with her own ice cream, trying to keep it from staining her clothes, and Yuri would lie if he said it doesn't make him feel nostalgic. 

A little charmed as well.

‘Do you need another napkin?’ he asks, amused, and she shakes her head, brows knitted together in complete focus.

‘It’s fine! I’m almost done.’ 

He huffs. It reminds him of when they were children when Bernadetta would knock on his door all alone, face covered in tears, and he - two years older, and thus, a respectable almost adult in her eyes, despite Yuri not being older than eleven - would have dragged her across the street, holding her hand tightly. They would cross the road, and with some of Yuri and Bernadetta’s savings, pay for one ice cream for both of them.

Many things have changed. None of them live there anymore: Bernadetta moved out of her father’s house long ago, and Yuri doesn’t even know what to call a home anymore. And perhaps she’s the reason he would come back to this old, dusty city ever so often: to see her, to check if she’s alright, if she still remembers him.

Why he cares so much about what Bernadetta remembers or not, he doesn’t know, and he hasn’t given it much thought either. 

‘Ah, that was so good…’ Bernadetta whines, done with her cone as well, and cleans her hands with a handkerchief. There is, however, still some stracciatella around her lips, and Yuri snorts. They’ve depleted half a pack of twelve napkins, but that’s fine, another one won’t hurt.

‘Look at me, Bernadetta.’ She turns to him, and Yuri carefully wipes the ice cream off. 'You always make a mess of yourself when eating ice cream, you know? Just like back then…' It's not like he isn't noticing her eyes widening, or how her cheeks turn a deep red, he is, in fact, noticing them very much. And she looks adorable in a way that makes Yuri's cold little heart to swell. 'There you go.' He throws the used napkin right into a trash can by the bench and smirks. 

When he turns back to Bernadetta, she's touching her own face, lost in her own thoughts as it happens often. But it's better than it used to be. 'Thinking about how we just looked like a couple, Bernie?'

She squeaks. 'No! I wasn't – I wouldn't dare to think that.'

Yuri leans on the back of the bench again, unable to stop himself from smiling. 'I don't think there's anything wrong with it.'

Silence. He can almost hear the gears inside her head turning. Not like his brain isn't going insane pondering if saying that was a bad idea, either. He doesn't play his cards if he thinks he can't win, but perhaps he made a mistake this time.

'Now...' He gets up from the bench, straightening his back and acting like nothing happened. 'Shall we go back? I know you're busy with your thesis.'

‘Ah, uhm, yes. We should…’ She takes the hand Yuri offers her to get up, even if it’s completely unnecessary, and their hands stay together, for some reason. When they were children, she would always cling to his hand, clumsy a child as she was. Even if many of her bruises weren’t from falling all the time. But they aren’t children anymore, they aren’t just two eight-year-olds on their way across the street for something sweet to lift their own spirits with. 

Nothing is the same, and holding hands now, like delicately wiping stracciatella ice cream off the other’s face, has a different meaning.

Surprisingly, she squeezes his hand instead of finally letting go of it. ‘Did- Did I tell you what it was about?’

‘Not much.’ They start walking, hands still linked, in the direction of Bernadetta’s home. ‘I’d love to hear about it. You were studying Audiovisual Communication, right?’

‘Y-Yes!’ Her face lights up, and Yuri’s heart makes a little dance in his chest. ‘It’s very nice, although I don’t think I’m good at it… But I enjoy it anyway.’

He’s happy to know that she’s finding her way in the world, little by little. ‘Is that so? And I was told college was hell…’

‘It sort of is sometimes…’ she admits sheepishly. ‘Many times.’

He snorts. ‘Anyhow. Keep telling me about this thesis of yours.’ 

Her eyes shine with passion when she hears his words, despite her shy demeanor when she speaks again. ‘You won’t laugh at it, right?’

‘Course’ not,’ he assures, a completely genuine smile for once. ‘Can’t be more ridiculous than the ideas you had when you were eight.’

She whines, squeezing his hand again, and they walk out of the park together without letting go of each other.


End file.
